No, we’re not having porridge this evening, cold or otherwise. That was Marvin (my personal robot) typing the title for me as he does most weeks. Explains a lot.
What’s happening around this place? Usual kind of stuff. We’re preparing for the warm weather, which typically comes around this time in the northern hemisphere (for those of you browsing in from Madagascar). That’s kind of an involved process. We have to put out the fire we started in the basement last November. No, we don’t have a furnace – that’s for bourgeois rock bands and… what do they call them? …. symphony orchestras. Hell, no – no furnace for Big Green. We just bust up a bunch of old furniture, baskets, hammer stocks (of which there are many lying around the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill), and other combustibles, chuck ’em down the basement stairs, light ’em up, and keep it going until March.
Okay, so… first step, put out the fire. Second, open a few windows. I don’t know how many of you out there live in abandoned factories. (I’m guessing it’s less than a thousand on any given day.) For those of you who have permanent residences in actual houses or other appropriate human habitation, it’s probably hard to picture just what we have to go through to get some fresh air into this bloody great brick barn. All of the window hardware is rusted, all of the casings are cracked and paint-sealed. I think the only 
actual paint left is the stuff holding the windows closed.
Sure… I’m certain someone out there has already asked themselves (or their robot friend) “Why don’t they just break the windows?” Or perhaps you’re asking, “Does the moon weigh the same when it’s in crescent phase as it does when it’s full?” Or maybe you ponder other imponderables, such as the tides (they come in, they go out, never a miscommunication) or the weekend lineup on MSNBC. Well, there are answers to all of these questions…. but if I were to simply GIVE them away, you would think me an easy mark, wouldn’t you? No, no… everything has a price, my friend. Just let me know how much you want, and I’ll send it in the morning post.
Hmmm…. well, I’ve wandered a bit. Back to producing. Where’s that electric banjo?
Ah, got it. Scratched into my computer monitor, right about where the password field appears on the screen. Pretty clever, huh? No one would think of looking for it there! Let’s see… what is up at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill that might be of interest to you. Little inventory here. I think Mitch Macaphee is working on an experiment (either that or Qaddafi’s bombers are getting closer). Matt is either changing strings on a guitar, feeding animals, or transposing our heads with those of lunar astronauts. (A specialty of his.) Johnny White is catching up on his technical manuals, I believe. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has shut himself down for the weekend, taking a little break from his newly founded religious cult. I won’t get into what the Lincolns are up to.
“…most of the big green groups are loath to talk about economics and often don’t want to see themselves as being part of a left at all, see climate change as an issue that transcends politics entirely…. a lot of the big green groups, are also in a kind of denial.” 
Right. So, let’s see… what do we have in the old mail bag? Ah… here’s something…
I have entrusted it to my good friend, Big Zamboola, who will carry it straight over to you…. just as soon as he disengages himself from synchronous orbit over Aldebaran 7. (He is strangely attracted to that hideous little globe.) Give him a few thousand years or so. Orbits have decayed more slowly than that, to be sure.